


grave new world

by signifier



Series: The Chronicles of Los Santos [13]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, i like the seasons, idk - Freeform, kinda angsty, kinda proud of this one, sprinkled with fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2020-10-10 20:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifier/pseuds/signifier
Summary: Two men meet in a cemetery everyday for almost a year; told through the cycle of the four seasons.-When they greet each other the next day the flower is gone, but the sentiment remains.





	1. Spring

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Naturallyvicious](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naturallyvicious/gifts).

> cinthya, ily, so here u go. it was meant to be an immortal fahc fic, but it kinda ran away with me oops
> 
> this was originally going to be a oneshot but i changed my mind - i'll try to be as quick as i can with updates :))

The snow that remains from winter is sparse, distributed among the graves unevenly. It feels odd to see it still around, especially with the sun starting to shine again, creating a nostalgic feeling for nothing at all that surrounds the graveyard. There’s a condensation to the stones that’s a welcome sight; a sign that that the weathers starting to get warmer and life will start to get better.

Unless, of course, your name is Jeremy.

It’d been a long time since Jeremy had been to the Los Santos cemetery – years, in fact, so he’d expected the change that came when he stepped up to greet a friend he once knew.

The flowers that lay at the base of the stone were long past dead, frozen in their decaying state by the harsh winter that had passed. Jeremy was certain the lightest of breezes would shatter the already delicate remains instantly. The grass was equally as worn down, blades of dried up brown easy to see where the snow wasn’t laid. He was pleased to see that the gravestone was more or less the same; a few new markings and an older rust to it now, but the lettering was still clear as day, sending a particularly deep sadness through Jeremy that he hadn’t felt in a long time. There were a few new graves now, easy to tell as they’re yet to be as worn down as the stones that surround them, but with the lack of care the ironically named caretakers have towards the cemetery, it wouldn’t be long before they joined their new friends in becoming rotten and forgotten about.

Jeremy clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his pockets to stop their nervous ringing.

“Been a while,” he begins, smiling guiltily. “I got kinda..distracted, I guess you could say, but don’t worry; I’m back for good and I plan to tell-“

“Do you mind not talking so loud? I’m in the middle of something here.” A deep voice to Jeremy’s right interrupts his speech and he turns his head to see a man two graves across, crouched on the balls of his feet beside a stone, not even looking in his direction.

The man was blonde, looked like he hadn’t had a hair cut in a while with the way the ends of his hair was starting to curl around the nape of his neck. The collar of his black coat was turned up to the direction that the wind was coming from and black leather boots made Jeremy cringe with the way they were creasing from the man’s position.

“Excuse me?” Jeremy spluttered. “I’m allowed to talk to my friend just like you’re allowed to talk to yours.”

“Well of course,” the man began, his knees clicking as he straightened to stand at his full height, “but you’re disturbing everyone here.”

Brief silence follows, caused by Jeremy’s shock at the height of the taller man. He looks around, finds it’s just the two of them alone in the place and turns back with a scowl.

“You mean I’m disturbing you.”

“Yes, you are.” He replies coolly, glancing in Jeremy’s direction for the first time. There was an icy look in his blue eyes, and for a second Jeremy was put off by the tall man and his harsh gaze before he remembered that vulnerability in Los Santos was not something to be shown.

“As I was saying,” without breaking eye contact, Jeremy continued talking to his past friend, his voice raised a little higher in volume, “I’ll tell you all about it.”

And just like that, a war is started.

-

It sort of becomes their thing; Jeremy talking about anything and everything, just loud enough for the man two graves away to complain.

“Back on your bullshit so soon? I thought I’d at least get a day.” He smiles sweetly as Jeremy retells one of the fifteen stories he’d already subjected the stone to.

Jeremy places a hand on his chest, leans back slightly, all with the expression of an offend Elizabethan women. “Darling, you really think I’d deprive you of your daily dose?”

“My name is Ryan,” he pushes through grit teeth, “if you’re going to be annoying me daily you might as well address me properly.”

“..Jeremy.”

-

“I’m not above killing you, y’know.”

“Well you’ll have picked a good place for it; there’s even a shovel by that tree.”

-

“Well, it’s been fun Jeremy but I’ll be bleeding from my ears if I listen to this anymore; and I’ve got plans.”

Jeremy can’t even remember what he was rambling about. “Have fun. Call me when your plans go to shit.”

Ryan shapes his hand into a phone, much like a child would, and holds it to his ear as he walks away.

-

For people who still don’t quite enjoy each other’s company and make every passing shot they can get their hands on, they’ve come a long way. Ryan’s still cold - doesn’t offer much more than a few sentences a day in response to Jeremy’s antics, but the biting stare has softened. Jeremy’s just as loud as he was that day but the spiteful need to ruin the other mans time has dissolved into a playful pastime. He thinks he see’s Ryan smile, just once.

Sometimes, though, Jeremy goes a little further than being an annoying nuisance and crosses the line straight into messed up. He gets too comfortable, forgets that Ryan isn’t his friend, forgets that he’s not anything to Ryan, not really. It reminds him of the first time he met Ryan, the icy and cut off demeanour.

“So, do those words actually mean anything? Are you sure they’re translated right? Could mean something real dumb – like hot sauce.” Jeremy stands over Ryan’s shoulder, leaning down to read the foreign language etched into the stone.

He see’s Ryan stiffen, feels the barrier of cold air force it’s way between them. Ryan turns his head to look at Jeremy, and there’s that look. He stands, Jeremy jumping back and out of the way as he does before he’s rounded on.

“Well do those words mean anything? Are you sure you worded it right? Got the grammar right? You’d look- whoever’s down there’d look real fucking dumb if you’re wrong, right?” He speaks fast, but low, a combination of blazing hot and freezing cold anger that washes over Jeremy and sits in the pit of his stomach.

“Ryan, I-“

“’Loving son and friend.’ Real original, how long did that one take you?”

Jeremy takes a step back, horrified at himself for starting all of this. Ryan must see the look on his face because he too steps away and turns around.

“I’m really sorry, Ryan.” Jeremy takes a slight step forward again, foot hitting grass beaded with dew.

Ryan takes a deep breath, shoulders rolling, but doesn’t say anything.

“It’s...I know we joke around a lot, but I really didn’t mean to overstep. I forget, sometimes, where we are.”

“Yeah.” He glances back over his shoulder, just once. “So do I.”

Ryan walks away.

-

Jeremy doesn’t see him the day after that.


	2. Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'It's 5am.'
> 
> 'I know.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, this chapter took a hot minute, oops
> 
> a lil on the shorter side but the next one to come is pretty damn good

Jeremy had forgotten that the heat felt different here.

There was a certain energy in the air, like static. Standing in the sun of Los Santos had the same effect as the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of a head – a cold shiver that quickly turns into electric adrenaline. He lived for it.

He cut about in tank tops and shorts, sunglasses perched on the end of his nose as he swaggered down the streets. Jeremy wasn’t the type to swagger, but something in Los Santos just had that effect on him.

Jeremy’s bubbly demeanour carried over into the conversations he had at the cemetery, causing much concern from a certain frenemy; as that’s what they were now.

‘Fucking hell, what did you spike your cereal with?’ Ryan teases, a feign sense of annoyance as he pauses his own storytelling to look to his left.

‘It’s summer! It’s warm, the sun is bright and life is better, my friend,’ Jeremy grins.

Ryan scoffs. ‘We’re not friends.’

They’d long since made up.

So it’s odd, when Ryan doesn’t show up.

Jeremy arrives like normal, greets the stone and tells them of last nights evening and the cold pizza he consumed. He continues with this routine for a while, before casting a glance at the stone two graves down; silent and waiting. He shakes his head, turning back to his own conversation. Time goes on, as it does, and Ryan doesn’t arrive.

No gates open, no crunch of dried grass, no complaints.

Jeremy doesn’t like it.

He stays for as long as normal, certainly doesn’t throw looks over his shoulder at any sign of movement, before bidding his friend a goodnight and starting to take off. He walks past Ryan’s usual spot, eyes trained on the three letters of the name engraved in the stone. Jeremy stops.

‘I-uh, I’m Jeremy. You probably already knew that, so, just, goodnight. I’m sure he’ll be back tomorrow,’ Jeremy smiles; sheepish. He isn’t sure who he’s trying to convince more.

-

Ryan does appear the next day, with an explanation on his tongue.

‘Sorry I wasn’t here yesterday. I had a meeting with some guy.’

‘Oh? How’d, how was it?’ Jeremy asks, not liking the feeling that crawls into his stomach.

Ryan shakes his head. ‘Just something about a job, it wasn’t serious.’

‘Ah, well I missed you.’

‘Really?’

‘No,’ Jeremy lies – just a little.

-

‘Holy shit, you have arms! Actual arms!’ Jeremy teases the first time Ryan shows up without his coat on. He’s wearing jeans still, proper dad jeans, and a black t-shirt that fits him well. There’s a backwards baseball cap on his head and his hands are in his pockets.

He removes a hand, flips Jeremy off and gives him a very dry smile.

Jeremy simply grins in response.

-

Sometimes, the summer nights are so warm in his shitty apartment with the broken AC that Jeremy prefers to sit at the steps of his building and listen to the grime music coming from down the street; some party he’s too old to be interested in. He likes to watch the silhouette of the dancing couple in the window across the road, notice the new graffiti that covers the fences. He likes knowing he’s not alone.

Jeremy’s been alone for a long time - years, in fact, ever since he left LS the first time.

So he walks.

It should be dangerous, walking around at night in a city like this, but the crimes are the highest during the day. Los Santos is a city of publicity and fame, a place not meant for those seeking to live a quiet life. The criminals here value an audience. Jeremy passes a group of drunk girls who giggle when he walks by, a not so subtle drug deal, and a tattooed man who nods at him as he goes. He’s not sure where he’s going, but he’ll know when he gets there.

It’s the cemetery that he ends up at. Maybe it’s because it’s the only place he gets interacted with these days. Maybe he thought his friend was lonely too. The graveyard is different at night; an eerie, but comforting mood to the stones that sit silent and strong. Jeremy finds his friend’s stone with ease and sits on the dry grass. It isn’t long before the cracking of the grass and leaves picks up and comes closer. A body lands cross-legged on the floor beside Jeremy.

‘It’s 5am.’

‘I know.’

‘What are you doing here, Jeremy?’ Ryan asks. It’s the first time they’ve sat at the same grave, Jeremy thinks.

‘What are _you_ doing here, Ryan?’ Jeremy challenges, no real poison behind his words. He’s suddenly tired. He feels Ryan’s eyes on the side of his face, and then the other man looks away.

‘I just kinda ended up here.’ Jeremy hadn’t been expecting a response, but Ryan’s voice is quiet when he replies.

‘Me too.’

They sit together, silent.

-

Something changes that summer.

There’s a different energy in the air – an understanding.


	3. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> '...Are you hitting on me in a graveyard?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck it have two chapters

Fall descends, bringing with it shorter days and colder winds. A fresh coat of leaves layers the floor, a satisfying crunch to them even when lightly stepped on. The colours are brighter and there’s something homely that the atmosphere brings – even in a cemetery.

Both men are in friendlier moods.

They’re sitting next to their graves, facing each other with their legs stretched out in front of them; ankles brushing.

‘Honestly the worst date I’ve ever been on. He made me pay too!’

Jeremy tuts, shakes his head. He’s smiling. He’s been doing that a lot lately, he thinks.

‘Well I’d never treat you like that,’ he declares, leaning back on the palms of his hands.

‘Oh yeah? That implies we’ll be going out,’ Ryan laughs, a doubting look on his face, but there’s something hidden in his expression.

Jeremy feels his stomach drop at the response that comes into his head, but he thinks fuck it. ‘Yeah well, maybe one day we will.’

‘…Are you hitting on me in a graveyard?’

‘That depends.’

‘On?’ Ryan laughs, eyes scrunching.

‘On if you’re interested,’ Jeremy grins.

Ryan rolls his eyes and chucks a handful of leaves at him. They drop the topic, but they’re smiling and there’s a red tint to both of their faces.

-

Ryan’s sitting cross-legged on the floor when Jeremy arrives a few days later, a slump to his shoulders.

‘Are you okay?’ He questions, coming to sit beside him on the cold floor.

‘I miss him.’

‘…What was he like?’

At first, Jeremy's not sure he’ll get an answer, figures he’s pushed it too far once again, but after a second Ryan begins to speak.

‘Scrawny – you wouldn’t have guessed he was in the bodyguard business from looking at him, but he was quick as hell when he moved and even deadlier with a pistol in his hand. Though, he favoured rifles.’

Jeremy’s silent, unsure of what to say as he pulls his jacket around him tighter.

Ryan continues.

‘Quiet; when I first met him he was anyway. Didn’t really speak much unless directly asked, but I stood beside him for hours during meetings and on jobs and the type of shit he would come up with was…you would have liked him.’

Jeremy looks towards the gravestone, pictures a thin man with a rifle in his arms and a sly grin on his face.

_Ray._

‘Danger is sweet.’

‘What?’

‘Dulce periculum; it’s Latin for danger is sweet,’ Ryan continues, gesturing to the words on the stone, ‘you once asked what it meant.’

‘Right, I did, yeah.’

‘It was funny at first, an ongoing joke we promised each other we’d follow through with, but now it’s just kinda sad,’ he smiles, the type that suggests that things are very much not okay.

Jeremy doesn’t know what to say, watching as Ryan lightly traces the lettering with chipped nails.

‘Why do you come here every day, Ryan?’

Ryan keeps smiling, but there’s something watery about it now as he meets Jeremy’s eyes.

‘Mistakes are easily made in the moment, apologies are not, so I come every day to apologise.’

Jeremy doesn’t ask what Ryan could have done that would need him to visit every day for years on end, he just shifts a little closer until their knees are touching and that seems to be enough.

-

‘His name was Matt,’ Jeremy reveals a few days later.

Ryan doesn’t say anything, must have read the name on the grave a hundred times by now, but he turns his head in his direction.

‘We moved here together, so many years ago now it doesn’t even feel like my memory, but we started together and we always said we’d leave together too and then he died and I…’ he has to pause, take a second to think of all the late night promises they’d made, ‘I had him buried and I left, because I couldn’t stay in that apartment and look at his computer and his favourite mug and the dent on the left side of the couch. I couldn’t sleep knowing the room next to mine had been permanently vacated.’

He sniffs, not quite sure when he’d started crying. The name etched in stone feels more real now than it ever did. Jeremy raises a hand, rubs the back of it across his eyes.

‘Matt was the type of person to fall in with the wrong crowd if they appeared nice enough. He ended up with some gang, fuck knows who with all of them around these days, but they had him running tech and pulling up blue prints and maps and I think he just liked being useful.’

Ryan had moved closer, standing in-between Matts grave and the one beside it. He’s not looking at Jeremy, which the younger man is grateful for, but is instead looking at the stone like he’s painting a picture of its namesake in his mind.

‘I tried to warn him, but the lifestyle this city leads to had him deep. He ended up on one of their jobs, one that went bad and the gang left him there to catch bullets with his teeth so they could escape. He just, didn’t come home one night and I had to learn from the news that my friend was dead.’

Jeremy sniffs again, moves his gaze from the leaf that had landed in the grass partway during his story onto Ryan, who looks back at him.

‘I…I feel like it’s my fault,’ Jeremy shrugs and there’s no stopping the sob that breaks the end of the sentence. He covers his face with his hands, shoulders shaking from more than just the cold. There’s the sound of crunching leaves and then two arms are wrapping around him, a chin resting on the top of his head.

‘I understand,’ Ryan begins, and Jeremy can feel the beat of his heart like this. ‘I feel the same about Ray. I fucked up on a mission, he died because of it and I think about that every day seeing his name on that stone and not his face next to me.’

They shift, Ryan coming to place his hands on Jeremys shoulders and hold him at arms-length. Jeremy drops his hands from his eyes, blinks a few times to clear the tears and look into Ryan’s own.

It was something Jeremy read once, about your heart beat syncing up with another when you look into each-other’s eyes. He’s not sure if he imagines the faint pulse he can feel on his shoulder, but it beats in time with his own.

‘It’s not your fault, Jeremy, and if you need me to tell you that daily then I will. You tried to help him, you have to hold onto that.’

Jeremy nods, almost certain he’ll start crying again if he tries to talk. The corner of Ryan’s mouth curls up and he nods back before letting his hands drop. Jeremy misses the contact instantly.

Ryan takes a quick glance around the cemetery before grinning at Jeremy and stepping away before he can ask any questions. He watches as Ryan picks his way through the graves, bends down to pick something off one of the mantles before coming back over to Jeremy.

Ryan places a single white lily on top of Matts stone.

‘That’s stealing, Ryan,’ Jeremy scolds, but there’s a small smile on his face and a deep appreciation in his heart.

‘It’s Los Santos; who cares?’

-

When they greet each other the next day the flower is gone, but the sentiment remains.

**Author's Note:**

> you can find me on tumblr as @sig-nifier send me a prompt or a question or just scream at me a lil bit


End file.
